Embers
by human28
Summary: After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at Hermione's doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

**EMBERS**

_Prologue_

There were three reasons why I decided to leave.

First and foremost, I wanted a change of scenery. The War had left the Wizarding World in shambles. My former job as an Arithmancer in the Ministry of Magic no longer held its appeal. My salary dropped several zeroes. I barely had enough to support myself. Much of the money being drawn in by the Ministry was being dedicated to reconstructing what was left of the wizarding community. I decided that it was time that I searched for greener pastures.

Second, both of my parents were killed in the war. Brutally murdered by three unknown Death Eaters. I sought vengeance by standing beside my best friend throughout the entire ordeal with Voldemort. I was set to fight to the death. It had been a bloody battle. I never thought I would live to tell the tale. And so I was left an orphan. With no sibling to rely on. The only living relative I had left was my father's younger sister. The Weasleys offered to house me, but I refused. Why?

Because Ronald Weasley, otherwise known as "The Cheating Jackass" or "The Lying Bastard" (whichever way you prefer) had ripped out my heart and shredded it into a million tiny pieces.

* * *

**I**

"_Déjeuner le chéri!" _

Her aunt's lilting voice called out to her from below. "_Une seconde _auntie!" She responded loudly. She sighed and stared at her reflection on the full-length mirror. No one would believe that the woman in the mirror was Hermione Granger. Drastic changes had occurred during the last two years that she had spent in France. In her aunt's business, it was obligatory to look a certain way. She was, after all, the Queen of the fashion industry. It was only expected that her assistant should look as fabulous as she did. And Hermione Granger happened to be her own personal assistant.

Hermione grabbed her black _Prada _bag and clambered down the staircase of her aunt's contemporary villa. It was a bit too large for Hermione's liking, considering the fact that they were the only two people who lived there. But she would be lying if she said it wasn't beautiful. With glass windows, an indoor swimming pool, and an upper deck, it was a house fit for a celebrity. But then again, Fiona Granger _was _one.

"There you are!" Fiona exclaimed from behind the marble kitchen counter dressed in a snug _Marc Jacobs _dress. Her dark brown hair was cut in a short bob and her fingernails were painted bright red. She was furiously typing into her _Blackberry_. "I have a lunch date with the editor-in-chief of _Vogue_ today so I won't be around to oversee the fitting of the models for the show later. Will you be able to handle it?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"_Fabuleux!_" Fiona said with a wide smile. She kissed Hermione on both cheeks before leaving. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Bye." Hermione watched her go and shook her head. Two years was a short time for anybody else. But to her, it felt like an eternity. Comparing her life now and her life before – it was simply _surreal. _Hogwarts seemed like a dream. She almost wondered if she still knew how to perform magic. Her wand was stashed away at the bottom of her trunk at the very back of her closet, hidden behind designer clothing and useless necessities.

_Maybe it's time that you went home._ A voice whispered in her head.

"This _is_ home." She murmured to herself. There was a part of her that blamed herself for the death of her parents. If only she hadn't been a witch. It could all have been avoided. This is what hindered her from reuniting with the Wizarding World. It brought back to many painful memories. Way too many.

Her iPhone began to ring. An unknown number flashed on the screen. "Hello?"

"_Is this Hermione Granger?_"

The hairs on her neck stood on end at the sound of the voice. Pure British. No French accent. There was something disturbingly _familiar _about it_. _It made her uneasy. "Yes, this is she. Who is this please?"

"_You'll find out when you meet me at the door._"

She froze.

"_Hello?"_

She reached for the nearest dangerous thing she could find – a rolling pin. Cautiously, she made her way over to the front door, keeping to the walls. There was an impatient sigh on the other end of the line. _"I'm waiting._" And the line went dead.

She considered calling the police. But what if it was some important contact of Fiona's? Finally she made it to the door. She peered at the small window by the side. A sleek black Mercedes McLaren was parked in their driveway. For some reason, that made her a bit comfortable. Surely a murderer or a thief wouldn't be driving something like that.

_Unless it was stolen. _She told herself. _Get a grip Hermione. You've been watching too many Muggle movies. _

Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and suppressed a gasp. There were two of them. And they had their backs turned on her. They were discussing in low tones. Both were dressed in business suits. One in navy blue, one in black.

"Good morning." Hermione greeted in a weak voice. Her finger was hovering above the speed dial on her phone – just in case. She hid the rolling pin behind her back.

The one in navy blue turned around and flashed her a winning smile. "Good to see you again Granger."

Her jaw went slack. "_Zabini?_"

"France apparently suits you." The one in black said with an unmistakable drawl. She'd recognize that smirk _anywhere. _Now she knew why that voice had sounded so familiar. And disturbingly so, too.

It belonged to Draco Malfoy.

"Why do you have a rolling pin in your hand?" Blaise wondered incredulously, brushing past her and into the house. Draco steered her by the elbow and followed Blaise in, shutting the door behind them with a soft click.

Hermione was dumbfounded by all the things that were currently happening: One, Blaise catching her with the rolling pin. Two, Blaise just walking in without any form of invitation from her. And three, Draco actually touching her without a single sign of disgust.

_The world must be coming to an end. _She thought, flabbergasted. After all, what else could be the reason for all of this?

She watched speechlessly as the two men made themselves comfortable on Fiona's Danish white sofa. "_Flagrante._" Draco hissed, pointing his wand at the Helsinki marble fireplace. It immediately burst into flames. Hermione staggered back several steps at the sight of magic. It had been so long since she had last seen it. It was like a wake-up call.

"Would you mind explaining to me your sudden presence here?" She asked, trying to keep her voice calm. Already, a million ideas were forming in her head. Each more distressing than the last. Was she in trouble? Did one of her friends die? It took all of her willpower not to say any of these things. Instead, she dropped her rolling pin onto the kitchen counter and took a seat in front of the two former Slytherins. They exchanged a glance. Blaise appeared to be telling Draco to do it. The blonde rolled his eyes and sighed.

"If you can remember, Granger. We're Aurors."

"I know that." Hermione said, browsing through her memories of the War. It had changed people. Mercifully, these two had been part of the few followers of Voldemort that decided to become something – better.

"I suppose I'd better start from the very beginning." Draco said, exhaling deeply. "This might bring back – painful memories. But they're crucial information, alright Granger?"

She nodded mutely. Her heart was going a hundred miles per minute.

"One of the three Death Eaters that had killed your parents still hasn't been found. We tried searching for him for the first few months after the imprisonment of his two cohorts, but we found nothing. We gave up on the case until recently – when he left us a note demanding for the release of his two friends. If we did not comply, he was going to finish the job that the Dark Lord had given him two years ago."

"Which is?" She asked shakily. But she already knew the answer.

"Killing you."

Her eyes snapped closed at those two words. Of course. Death Eaters were big on revenge. She was the reason behind the imprisonment of his two cohorts. She was also a Mudblood. Furiously despised by the likes of them. _And _she had a close connection with Voldemort's greatest enemy – Harry Potter.

"What makes you think he'll succeed?" She asked them. "I've been here for two years straight without using any sort of magic and I'm still perfectly safe. I don't think he'll be able to find me."

"He's been able to elude the Ministry of Magic for a very long time Granger. I'm pretty sure he could very well succeed in finding you." Blaise pointed out.

She scowled. "I can handle him."

"Are you sure about that?" Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You don't have the Dream Team to back you up now. And you yourself said that you haven't been using magic for a while now. Do you really think you can handle him on your own?"

"_Yes._" She snapped, rising to her feet angrily. How dare they think of her as a weakling? She had killed her fair share of black wizards during the War. She had dispensed an uncountable number of self-defense spells. There was no way one single Death Eater could cause her any harm. The sheer thought of the murderer made her blood boil.

Draco smirked. "I beg to differ."

"Get out."

Blaise shook his head. "Sorry Granger. Ministry's orders."

"Don't you have more important things to do?" She asked, planting her hands on her hips. "Or are you two so far down the list of Aurors that you get assigned with the weakest job there is?"

"Actually Granger, there really isn't much going on at the Wizarding World at the moment. This is the most action we've got since the War. He's the only missing Death Eater out there. Everyone else is locked up or dead."

"And besides," Draco added, stretching languidly on the couch. "I miss France."

_**TBC**_

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A/N: Please let me know what you think. So I can decide whether or not to continue this story. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Based on your reviews, I take it that you are all interested with my story. So here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

**EMBERS**

**II**

Draco watched as Hermione practically burned a hole onto the elegant white tiles in the house with her frantic pacing. When the Ministry of Magic had given them this particular job, Draco had immediately accepted. Life in London was getting tedious. With Voldemort gone, life was a bore. It almost made him want to transform into a super-villain. But that was out of the question. Instead, he'd have to make do with this. He hoped that the Death Eater would show himself soon. Meanwhile, he'd enjoy himself. This was almost like a vacation. He was already beginning to form an attachment with Muggle contraptions.

Apparently, so did Blaise. The dark-haired man sat with his legs propped up on the side table, his attention focused on the plasma screen TV hanging above the fireplace. An American football game was on. Blaise winced as one of the players toppled over another. "That sport looks a lot more violent than Quidditch."

"Can we please _focus_ here?" Hermione asked impatiently. "What on earth am I going to tell my aunt since the both of you _refuse _to stay anywhere else aside from here?"

"We can't guard you when we're living someplace else." Blaise pointed out.

"I know that!" She snapped. "Why do you think I'm asking you to help me find a suitable reason then? Obviously I can't just tell her that I have a crazed murderer looking to turn me into a bloody corpse!"

"Calm down." Blaise soothed. "I've already thought of a story."

"You have?" Draco and Hermione said at the same time.

"Yes. Here's what we tell her. Draco is someone you've met online and had fallen in love with. Now he's your boyfriend coming over for a visit. He has no place to stay and so you offered. I would be playing Draco's best friend, offering him all the support in the world."

There were several objections to that single statement.

"_Over my dead body!" _Hermione shrieked.

"Are you fucking kidding me Blaise?" Draco asked, staring at him like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Which was exactly what it was. It didn't matter that the ugly duckling had transformed into a swan, she was still the same old Hermione Granger who worried too much and read way too many books.

Blaise shot them both an irritated look. "Do you have any other plan, then?"

He was met with silence.

"I see."

"Why can't _you_ be my boyfriend?" Hermione blurted out.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You wound me Granger."

"We have too many differences, Malfoy." She snapped at him.

Blaise frowned. "That won't do."

"And why the hell _not_?"

"Because I already have a girlfriend."

"Oh." Hermione paused. Her eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. "Who?"

"Ginny Weasley."

"_WHAT?_"

"Yes Granger. You've been gone that long." Draco told her matter-of-factly. Something flashed in her brown eyes. Her lips pursed into a thin line. From what he had heard back home, Potter, the Weasleys, and the rest of her friends had heard nothing from her ever since she left. Draco briefly wondered why.

"Then it's settled then?" Blaise asked in a tone that brooked no argument. "So Hermione, when can we meet this aunt of yours?"

"Did you just call me Hermione?"

"We're supposed to be friends. It won't do calling you Granger." Blaise said with a shrug. He glanced at Draco. "You should start practicing too. The both of you should act the part."

Hermione stiffened. "I'm sure we can do it without having to touch each other."

Blaise frowned. "I don't think that will be quite believable."

"We're supposed to have met for the first time in person. It will suffice." Draco said through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at Blaise.

Blaise raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright!"

"She's gone for the rest of the day. But we're supposed to have dinner tonight. You can meet her then." Hermione glanced at the silver watch on her wrist. Her eyes widened. "And I am _late._" Brandishing her phone, she called for a town car.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked.

"Work, obviously. You don't think I just stay here all day, do you?" Hermione arched an eyebrow and trotted off towards the door. The two Aurors followed her without a moment's hesitation. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked sounding annoyed.

"You don't think we'll stay here all day, do you?" Draco mimicked her. "We're your bodyguards, remember?"

"_Fine._" She said through gritted teeth. "But you are _not _to interfere with my work, is that clear?"

Draco and Blaise exchanged a look and nodded.

"Where is the _bloody car?_" Hermione screeched upon reaching the driveway to find it empty.

"You have half a dozen cars in your garage Hermione." Blaise pointed out confused.

"I don't know how to drive."

Draco rolled his eyes and walked over to his Mercedes. "I'll drive."

* * *

Work did not turn out to be as bad as Hermione had thought. She had locked the two aggravating Slytherins in her office (although that seemed rather pointless considering they could open it with a single spell) while she did her job. But it had been useful enough, since no one stumbled upon them. Hermione wasn't quite ready to reveal to everyone that she had a "boyfriend". A vain, blonde, egotistical boyfriend that she had "met online", which was actually quite perverted in her opinion. _She _would never look for a boyfriend online. That was just – weird.

Finally, after the last of the models had been fitted, she retired to her office. What she saw when she walked in made her want to laugh. Two grown men were seated behind her _iMac_ arguing heatedly with each other. "That's not how you do it. You should click on the _start _button and just scroll up."

"How do I scroll up?"

"You just move your finger on that small square box. Apparently, it just follows your movement."

"Alright. What next?"

"Tap your finger if you want to select."

"How on earth do you know about these things?" Blaise asked, sounding amazed.

"The Ministry had that seminar on Muggle contraptions last week. You were too busy snogging Weasley to bother attending." Draco reminded him. That did it, Hermione burst out laughing. The two of them looked up from her laptop.

"Seriously? The Ministry had a seminar on _that_?" Hermione asked in between guffaws of laughter. "And here I thought wizards were too good for Muggle contraptions. With the exception of Mr. Weasley perhaps." She added as an afterthought, recalling fondly the interest Arthur Weasley had over all things Muggle.

"Yes. How else are we supposed to blend in if we didn't know anything about them?" Draco said matter-of-factly. "Why do you think I know how to drive?"

Hermione had forgotten about that.

"And why do you think I was able to call you earlier?"

That too.

Honestly, she had been too caught up in the Muggle world that she had almost erased magic out of her life. It was rather pathetic. Because in reality, being a witch was the best thing that ever happened to her. Until it had brought with it painful consequences. She shook her head. Now was not the time to emote on the past. "It's half past five. We should be heading home now."

They nodded, straightening themselves. "I still can't believe you work for a modeling agency." Draco mused as they exited the building. "From a boring Arithmancer to this."

"It's not exactly the life I had pictured out." Hermione said truthfully. "But it pays well. And it's not that difficult."

"Do you think they have a job opening?" Blaise wondered.

"As an assistant?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"Of course not!" Blaise exclaimed. "As a model."

"That's more my line of work Zabini." Draco said with a grin.

"You two are unbearable." Hermione said, her lips twitching as they got into the car. _Hmm, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. _

_Not until that Death Eater shows up._

Hermione shuddered at the thought.

_I hope he shows up soon._

_So that this will all be over._

_  
_And she could go back to living like a normal Muggle with no connections to magic.

_**TBC**_

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A/N: Review and let me know what you think. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Thanks everyone. :D

* * *

**EMBERS**

**III**

"Hermione! _Chéri_, where are you?"

Blaise and Draco exchanged a panicked glance before quickly switching of the television and hastily positioning themselves on the couch. "_Accio _luggage." Draco hissed, waving his wand in the direction of the bottom staircase where they had left their trunks. They zoomed out from the other room and into the sitting area, landing with a soft thud beside either of them. The sound of heels clicking echoed dangerously close. Draco slipped his wand in his pocket.

"I'm here Aunt Fiona!" Hermione called out, entering the room frenetically. Judging from the stain on her dress, she had just finished preparing dinner. Blaise motioned for her to sit beside Draco. She refused. Draco could care less. They could always _obliviate _this aunt of hers if she ever came close to suspecting anything. Draco was a pro when it came to memory charms.

A petite woman in her mid-forties walked in wearing a bemused expression on her fully made-up face. "Whose car is that outside – oh."

"Good evening Mrs. Granger." Blaise greeted, plastering on his most charismatic smile. Fiona practically melted at his feet. Draco had to hand it to his friend, he was an expert when it came to charm.

"Hermione, dear. You never told me we had guests." Fiona admonished her niece lightly.

"That would be my fault Mrs. Granger," Draco said, rising to his feet. "We came unannounced. I'm Draco Malfoy, by the way. And this is my friend, Blaise Zabini."

"A pleasure to meet you. Please call me Fiona. Mrs. Granger makes me feel so old." Fiona said with a smile. "Why don't we talk over dinner?"

"Sure, why not?"

They transferred into the dining room. Dinner was already set. They took their respective seats around the rectangular glass dining table with Fiona sitting at the head. "This looks delicious, Hermione."

"I just ordered it from _Lepicurien_." Hermione admitted. "I didn't really have time to cook."

"Quite alright dear. I adore their food." Fiona gestured for them to begin eating. Blaise did not need to be told twice. Draco rolled his eyes at his friend's enthusiasm and waited for Fiona to begin bombarding them with questions.

"So your friends of Hermione?" Fiona asked with a smile. "I noticed your accents, so I suppose the both of you are old friends of hers from London."

"Actually Fiona, Hermione and I have something to tell you." Draco began. He locked eyes with Hermione. She had frozen mid-bite. Her eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Fiona looked surprised. But only slightly so.

"And here I thought you were gay." She told Hermione. Blaise almost spit out his wine. Draco had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Hermione was red in the face. "Wherever did you get that presumption, Auntie." She stated blandly.

Fiona shrugged. "Well, you always turned down all those gorgeous male models who tried asking you out."

"They weren't very bright." Hermione pointed out. "You don't need intelligence when your looking for a good lay."

Blaise's shoulders were now shaking from suppressed laughter.

Hermione blushed. "That's because I met Draco. I mean, I met him online."

"Online? Well that's interesting."

Draco chose this moment to take a bite.

"So tell me, does cybersex really work?"

Draco choked.

"We haven't -- "

"Yes." Hermione said at the same time. She shot him a murderous look that told him she had had enough of her aunt's blatant comments about her seemingly non-existent sex life.

"And this is the first time you've met?"

They nodded. "Do you have any place to stay?" Fiona asked. "Because we have spare bedrooms."

"We wouldn't want to intrude." Blaise said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "We could always find a place nearby."

"Oh please. This house is too big for just Hermione and me." Fiona said with a wave of her hand. "The two of you can stay as long as you like. Just as long as you pick up after yourselves, it won't be any problem at all."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you." Blaise said warmly.

"Well I don't know about the rest of you but I am _exhausted. _My meeting was chaotic." Fiona stood and bade them all good night.

"You," she pointed at Draco. "Will stay in Hermione's room. It's time my niece release some of that pent-up tension of hers."

The minute Fiona was out of earshot, Blaise burst out laughing.

* * *

_This is going to be a total nightmare. _Hermione contemplated with some agitation. Rooming with Malfoy! She couldn't imagine anything worse. It was just like her aunt to throw her into another uncomfortable situation such as this.

Fiona Granger was _adored_ by all. Despite her older age, she did not go without her own set of young male admirers. In fact, she had brought home a few on several occasions. Hermione shuddered at the thought.

Whenever an opportunity rose, Fiona would take the liberty of setting Hermione up on a date. She would almost always never show up for it. It didn't matter that every man that Fiona had chosen for her was picture-perfect: a hotshot movie producer, a rising musician, or a fledging businessman. Anyone who was interested in her in _that _way immediately got the boot from her. She saw a pig in every single one of them. A cheating jackass. A lying bastard. A disaster waiting to happen. She had Ron Weasley to thank for all of that. Hermione Granger vowed never to fall in love again.

She found life so much easier that way.

"This way!" She called out from behind her, trudging up the steps leading to the villa's second floor. She heard a whoosh of air and knew that the two wizards had their luggage floating safely behind them. She came to a stop on the first door nearest to the staircase. She threw it open. It was the guest room. It was simple enough. With a queen-sized bed, plasma TV, a small fridge, a closet, and a bathroom.

Blaise's eyes lit up at the sight of the television. "Thanks Hermione." She nodded and waited for Draco to walk in as well. He didn't budge.

"You're welcome to stay here Malfoy." Hermione told him.

"Your aunt's expecting us to share a bedroom." Draco stated indolently.

"She wouldn't have to know."

Draco sighed. "I don't bite, Granger."

Hermione graced him with a dubious look. "Seriously?"

"Look, we won't be able to protect you if your all the way down the hall."

"I can protect myself."

"Then our presence here would be utterly pointless now, wouldn't it?"

"That's what I keep telling you."

"Case closed Granger. I'm sleeping in your room and there's nothing you can do about it." Draco said bluntly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Suit yourself." Hermione huffed, stomping down the hall towards her bedroom.

"No couch?" Draco asked with a frown upon entering Hermione's bedroom. It was almost as simple as the guest bedroom. Change the queen-sized to king-sized and add a desk with a laptop and a sliding door leading to an outside balcony and it was exactly the same.

"Do you see any?" Hermione snapped.

Draco raised his hands at her. "No need to attack me. I'm sure the bed's big enough for the both of us." He said listlessly. "Unless you'd rather I sleep on the floor." She shot him a skeptical look. "If that's what you wish, I'll do that."

Hermione was surprised. Was Draco actually being a gentleman? It was shocking, to say the least. "No. The bed will be fine." She mumbled without looking at him.

He nodded before disappearing into the bathroom to change.

It was quite ironic, Draco Malfoy being the first guy to sleep in her bedroom. A few seconds later, he reappeared. The sight of him left her a bit staggered for a moment. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of grey flannel pants, leaving his upper body completely exposed to her. Merlin, he was _toned._ _Yes. _She thought, briefly recalling to his playful banter with Blaise about modeling. _He could definitely be a model._

"Something wrong Granger?" Draco asked, staring at her oddly.

"Ah – erm, I just noticed you're wearing Calvin Klein sleepwear." Hermione hastily said. This much was true.

Draco shrugged. "Muggles actually have good taste in clothing. Robes were getting tedious." He flopped onto the bed and turned on the TV. Hermione tore her gaze away from her bed, still quite unbelieving that Draco Malfoy was lying there half-naked and hurried into the bathroom.

She needed a cold shower – fast.

She did so quickly and wandered over to her walk-in closet. Hermione realized with horror that she did not have any appropriate sleepwear available. Fiona had bought majority of her clothes and a good lot of them weren't exactly – conservative. Having slept alone for the past two years, Hermione hadn't really minded them. In fact, she had gotten used to wearing them.

It was only now that she realized how appalling they all looked. _He'll think I'm trying to seduce him! _Hermione thought horrified. There was not a single pajama in sight. She considered wearing a pair of slacks to bed, but that would just be ridiculous and downright uncomfortable. With sigh, she selected the least dreadful out of all of them: a white number that ended mid-thigh. It showed a bit of cleavage. But at least it wasn't _sheer._

She breathed in deeply before pulling the door open. To her luck, Draco was too engrossed in an episode of _True Blood _to notice her exit. Hoping to distract him as little as possible, she tiptoed hurriedly towards the bed.

"What on _earth_ are you wearing Granger?"

Hermione froze. She felt herself turn bright red.

Draco was giving her a onceover. She fidgeted.

"Not bad, Granger." Draco said with a smirk before turning his attention back onto the TV. Hermione dashed towards her side of the bed and dove underneath the covers. Draco barely glanced her way again.

_Thank god. _Hermione thought relieved. Soon, exhaustion took over and she found herself drifting off to sleep.

_**TBC**_

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A/N: Review please. Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took their time to review.

* * *

**EMBERS**

**IV**

_The entire house was eerily silent. Rain poured mercilessly outside, bombarding the rooftop with frightening drops. Lightning would flash every now and then, illuminating the landscape with a fierce glow. Thunder would follow thereafter making her knees tremble. Something was wrong. She pushed open the door to the living room. The television was on. A weather forecast was being reported. A storm was brewing over London._

_She shivered from the cold. All the windows were open. It had been raining for a good two hours now. Why on earth were they still open? Surely someone should have closed them. She hastily shut them close. _

"_Mom?" She called out._

"_Dad?"_

_There was no answer._

_That's odd. She thought, plodding up the wooden staircase. It was barely four in the afternoon. They should have been home from work. And besides, the door was unlocked and the TV had been blaring when she came in. _

_The feeling of foreboding would not leave her._

"_Stop being dramatic Hermione." She scolded herself and wandered towards her parents' bedroom. The door was half-open. But the lights were on. She slowly pushed it open._

_Then she screamed._

Draco was awakened by a hideous scream. His fingers automatically grasped for his wand which lay underneath his pillow. The scream was coming from right beside him. Hermione was thrashing. But other than that, she was perfectly asleep. And there was no one else in the room. He dropped his wand and seized hold of her shoulders. He gently shook her awake. "Granger! _Hermione_, wake up!"

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up. They were blank for a moment and then they began to fill with tears. Draco released his hold on her and moved an inch away, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. "Nightmare?" He asked quietly.

Hermione ducked her head and wiped away her tears. When she spoke, her voice was flat. "This is the first time I've had them since two years ago."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked hesitantly, unsure on how to act.

Hermione shrugged limply. "Just the usual. Walking in on my dead parents."

Draco grimaced. "I suppose we're to blame for that." Their sudden reappearance from her past might have triggered the nightmare, especially since they came bearing news of the rotten Death Eater that had murdered her parents.

They were silent for a moment. Her next question surprised him. "How are your parents?"

Draco stiffened.

Hermione must have noticed because she apologized. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

It was as if a switch had been pulled and his mind immediately went blank. "They're dead to me."

Hermione did not pursue the topic. She resumed her sleeping position and pulled the covers up to her chin. Her eyes fluttered shut. Draco watched her sleep for a bit before allowing himself to be drowned in his own nightmares.

When he awoke the next morning, Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Her side of the bed had been made up neatly. On top of her pillow was a small piece of paper.

_Gone out with Blaise to have breakfast. Fiona has left for work. There's food in the fridge if you know how to cook – or use a microwave._

_- Hermione_

Draco frowned. What on earth was a microwave? He didn't recall the Ministry ever teaching them that. With a disgruntled sigh, he climbed out of bed and wandered over to the bathroom only to find that there weren't any towels left. He decided to go look for one in Hermione's closet.

He could not resist a grin when he stumbled upon a few pieces of rather seductive lingerie. _Naughty, naughty girl. _He thought pushing them aside to continue searching for the blasted bath necessity. The next thing he stumbled upon, however, made him freeze.

To a Muggle, it would have seemed odd for a man like Draco Malfoy to express so much shock over a solitary slender piece of wood. But to him, it meant volumes. Leaving your wand behind was like amputating one of your limbs and chucking them into the closet. He shook his head in disgust and pocketed it. How could Hermione Granger, the smartest witch that Hogwarts had ever seen since Rowena Ravenclaw disown this essential part of herself? Was she really that determined to push magic out of her life?

_Pathetic. _Draco thought angrily as he finally found the towels. He stormed into the bathroom in a whirlwind of fury. He was going to have a talk with Hermione after this.

* * *

Nothing spoiled breakfast more than a livid Draco Malfoy.

"What did we do now?" Blaise Zabini asked, confused. Draco Malfoy had just barraged into the café wearing a stony expression.

"He looks constipated." Hermione noted.

"That my dear friend, is worse than constipation. He looks downright furious." Blaise observed calmly. He tucked a newspaper underneath is arm and stood from his seat, swallowing the remainders of his cappuccino.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hermione asked him as Draco neared their table.

"Time to make my Houdini escape." Blaise said in a gallant air and then hurriedly left the table. Hermione glared daggers at his retreating form. _Coward. _She thought. _And he's been watching too many Muggle shows. Houdini my ass. _

Draco assumed Blaise's position in front of her. "Care for some muffins?" Hermione asked weakly, gesturing at the plate of blueberry muffins in between them. Draco did not even glance at them. His eyes were firmly fixed on hers. She noticed how grey they were. _Almost like silver…_

"Tell me Hermione, why did you leave London?"

That threw her.

When she spoke, her voice was dangerously low. This was a topic that she did not discuss with anyone. Not her aunt, not the few friends that she had at the agency, and not even with herself. "I believe that it is none of your business."

"Well, I'm making it my business." Draco said with such causality that her blood began to boil. First, he appears at her home completely unannounced, then triggers a set of intensely excruciating nightmares, _sleep _in her own bed, and now this? He had the _nerve _to ask her this?

"Fuck you Malfoy." Hermione hissed, throwing her napkin at the table and rising to her feet. She wasn't going to deal with this. Without looking behind her, she walked away from the café.

She heard footsteps following her.

"Hermione! Hermione, wait!"

That was Zabini's voice.

"Is he with you?"

"No. Just me."

She slowed her pace and allowed Blaise to catch up with her. "I apologize for Draco's behavior." He said gently. "He always had a bit of trouble controlling his emotions."

"He was out of line." Hermione said brusquely.

"He was." Blaise conceded. "He just wanted to give you something."

"Oh really? And what would that be? An _Imperius_?"

Blaise's expression darkened. "That isn't very nice."

Hermione softened. "I'm sorry. You're right." She sighed and flopped down onto a nearby bench. Blaise sat down beside her. "He's a piece of work, isn't he?"

Blaise shrugged. "He only does what he does because he cares."

Hermione laughed derisively. "That's how he shows it? Through demanding a free pass into my personal life?"

"He's concerned." Blaise said retrieving something from his pocket. Hermione's eyes went round when she saw what it was.

* * *

_The small and dimly-lit shop struck her as an odd one. There was only one desk near the front door, and behind it were rows and rows of grimy shelves filled with cardboard boxes, wooden and velvet cases. They were all covered by a thin layer of dust. An old man who was just as odd appeared from the shadows, wearing a knowing expression on his wrinkled face. He didn't bother greeting them. No smile, no warm welcome. He went straight to business._

_He snatched a red box by the near shelf. "Rosewood, 10", Phoenix feather." He muttered, mostly to himself. He handed her a short wand. "Well go on now. Give it wave."_

_She did so obediently. The desk toppled over. They all jumped._

"_Not it. Not it." He said with a shake of his head. He grabbed another box from the bottom of the shelf._

"_Ash, 16", hair from the tail of a female Unicorn."_

_She gave it another wave. The wooden stool by the side turned into ash. "Oh dear." She said, almost dropping the wand._

_The man assessed her with a critical eye. "Hmm. I know just the thing." He disappeared by the back and didn't appear for another five minutes. When he did, there was a gleam in his eye. _

"_Vine, 10 3/4", with Dragon Heartstring."_

_She gave it a wave. Sparks flew from the tip and transformed into tiny gold stars. _

_He smiled._

_

* * *

  
_

Yes, she remembered that day with an immense clarity. One does not forget such an important event. It had been the beginning of her long and treacherous journey into the world of magic.

"Just because the Wizarding World has been hard on you doesn't mean you have to push it out of your life." Blaise said softly. "This is a _part _of you Hermione. Embrace it."

Hermione felt shame flood through her and a sudden wetness on her cheeks. She realized she was crying.

Her fingers tightened around her wand.

_Embrace it. _

_**TBC**_

_**

* * *

**_

A/N: Reviews would be appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

**IMPORTANT NOTE: **Pardon my French, I'm using an online English-to-French translator since I can't speak a word of French. My translator has not messaged me back yet, so I just decided to go ahead and post this. I hope it won't be too much of a bother. =)

* * *

**EMBERS**

**V**

Christophe Gilles knew that money wasn't everything. With fame came riches and with riches came greed. But he refused to be pulled into the sinful tendencies that many men of his status enjoyed immensely. He wanted more out of life. He wanted love.

"_Le bon soir. Peut je parle s'il vous plaît à _Fiona Granger?" (Good evening. May I please speak to Fiona Granger?) Christophe said politely into his mobile phone.

"_Un moment." _(One moment.) He frowned when he heard the reply. The voice was distinctively male. _The butler, perhaps? _He thought hopefully. Surely, Fiona Granger did not have a boyfriend. She had said so herself when they had made their acquaintance at a charity ball last week. _A lover, maybe? _It was a possibility. Fiona Granger had a reputation for affinities like such. But that wasn't why Christophe wanted to ask her out on a date.

Fiona Granger was beautiful, intelligent, alluring, and she had captured Christophe's heart during their five-minute meeting. He found that he thirsted for more of her. She was simply enchanting.

"_Bonjour? Peux-je demander qui appelle?" _(Hello? May I ask who is calling?) Fiona's sweet voice asked from the other end of the line.

Christophe smiled. "Christophe Gilles. _Nous avons rencontré à la balle la semaine dernière._" (We met at the ball last week.)

There was a light chuckle on the other end. "_Bien sûr! Que peut je fais pour vous _Christophe?" (Of course! What can I do for you Christophe?)

"_Je me demandais si vous aimeriez diner avec moi demain la nuit._" (I was wondering whether you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow night.)

"_J'ai une première demain. Et la nuit après que cela?" _(I have a premiere tomorrow. What about the night after that?)

Christophe briefly wondered if she had a date to that premiere already and was only entertaining him as a sign of pity. After all, Christophe was not as handsome as he was during his younger years. _Do not jump to conclusions! _He berated himself.

"_Semble merveilleux. Je vous verrai alors. Au revoir!" _(Sounds wonderful. I'll see you then. Bye.)

Fiona echoed his words and terminated the call. _Well that wasn't bad. _He thought, already feeling happy at having accomplished such a feat. He was a bit lacking in the confidence department, which was why he almost always had to ask women out through the phone. He couldn't do it in person. _Which is why you haven't been married. Ever. _Most men his age had already gone through three to six wives. But to him, one would suffice.

"You have a date, eh?"

Christophe jumped at the sound of the voice. _British. _He noted. He didn't know anyone who was British. His palms began to sweat. He lived alone in his cliff-side mansion. It was eight in the evening. He had already made certain that all the doors were locked. He was a bit obsessive-compulsive when it came to security. He had the latest security system installed. Alarms would go off if someone tried to break in.

He must have been hearing things.

"Christophe."

The voice was nearer this time. Christophe drew in a shaky breath and slowly turned around. He gasped when he caught sight of the man standing five feet away from him. Jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a charming smile that had graced the silver-screen all around the world.

"_Adrien?_"

But he was _French_! How on earth did he learn to speak such immaculate English? And with a British accent to boot! Christophe stared with disbelieving eyes. Something was very wrong here.

"We had such fun at the charity ball last week." Adrien said, taking another step towards him. "I've seen how enthralled you were by Fiona Granger. I'm so glad to know that you've finally had the balls to ask her out on a date."

"Are you an impostor?" Christophe asked uncertainly, his English coming out a bit rocky. He knew, however, that this could not be true, seeing as Adrien had actually been around at the charity ball. He had been introduced to Fiona at the same time Christophe had been as well.

"_Vous plaisantez!" _(You jest!) The young star said with a laugh, speaking in perfect French and sounding like the Adrien he knew. Christophe could not understand why he was feeling so nervous about a man half his age. The feeing that something terrible was about to happen just wouldn't disappear.

"_Comment êtes-vous entré ici?" _(What are you doing here?)

Adrien released a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It sent chills running down Christophe's spine. "What do you want?" Christophe asked, his tone still pitifully French.

"You."

There was a flash of green light.

Then – there was nothing.

* * *

Draco had seen neither hide nor hair of Hermione since the incident over breakfast at the café. She had gone straight to work with Blaise at her heels. Draco opted to stay behind. He didn't want to deal with a woman whose sanity he was beginning to doubt.

It had only been three days and Draco was already starting to feel restless. Life as a Muggle had been interesting at first, with all the fascinating contrivances piquing his curiosity. But he missed London. He missed the Wizarding Community. He missed riding on a broomstick and eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Three days of being stranded in Muggle kingdom and he already felt like this.

Hermione had been gone for a total of two years.

Draco shook his head at her audacity to do such a thing. It was a mortal sin. His head began to throb. _Blast it. I forgot to bring the healing potions. _He thought feeling the incessant urge to smack himself in the head. He whipped out his mobile phone and began to dial Blaise's number. He picked up after several rings. "_Draco?_"

"Blaise. You don't happen to have any healing draughts do you?"

Blaise's voice was laced with panic. _"What happened?_"

"Nothing. Just a headache."

"_Blimey. I though you were hurt or something. Wait a second._"

Draco waited.

"_Hermione said there's some painkillers at the bottom drawer in your room. Orange bottle with the label 'Aspirin'. Just swallow one with water. We're on our way home, anyway._"

Blaise said goodbye. Draco frowned. He wasn't too happy with taking any form of medication produced by Muggles. But the headache was progressing into a migraine and he couldn't stand it anymore. He wandered towards the dresser and searched for the bottom drawer for the bottle of pills. Unfortunately for him, the drawer was filled to the brim with useless artifacts.

"Merlin, doesn't this girl know how to clean?" He complained out loud, rummaging through it in a hurry. "_Accio Aspirin!" _He hissed pointing his wand at the drawer. The orange bottle zoomed into his waiting hand.

His attention, however, had been diverted by a plain black notebook lying at the bottom of the drawer. He picked it up and squinted at the neat handwriting at the cover. _PROPERTY OF HERMIONE GRANGER. _Before he could even open it to the first page, it flew out of his grasp.

"I seem to have forgotten to include the word 'private'." Hermione said wryly. She stood at the doorway, the black book in her left hand, her wand on the right.

Draco was somehow appeased by it. "You've still got it." He observed with a smirk.

"I'm not the brightest witch at Hogwarts for nothing." She said haughtily.

Draco bit back a scathing remark, deciding that it would be better to leave Hermione be – for the meantime. She'll tell him sooner or later. Secrets were never meant to be kept for yourself. They would just eat you alive. For now, Draco was satisfied with the step she had made. At least it was in the right direction.

"Bulls eye." Draco conceded, popping an _Aspirin _into his mouth after significantly eying it with a hint of suspicion beforehand.

"I take it your not going to apologize for being a complete bastard earlier today." Hermione noted dryly. She pocketed her wand and took a seat on the bed. Draco stood in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"No." Draco said with a raised eyebrow. "I'll admit I'm a total bastard. But I'm not going to apologize. Keeping it to yourself won't do you any good." He said staring her straight in the eye.

"Maybe your right." Hermione said, her chin raised in defiance. "But _I _won't be telling you anything." She stood and began to leave the room. But not before tossing him the black notebook he had discovered accidentally at the bottom drawer.

_**TBC**_

_**

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**_

A/N: Review?


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

**EMBERS**

**VI**

_The day I had received my letter from Hogwarts had been my Dad's birthday. He had opted to celebrate with the just the three of us in attendance, forgoing the usual extravagant parties that Mum would usually throw for him, inviting all of his friends, co-workers, and relatives. Dad had always been a nature-lover. Thus, the picnic at the park._

_It was I who had selected the perfect spot beneath a large elm tree that provided just enough shade for the three of us. We were in the middle of eating potato salad when a handsome brown barn owl swooped in from the air and landed gracefully on top of Mum's wicker basket. Mum had squealed like a five-year old while Dad tried to shoo it away. It refused to leave. Instead, it stuck out its foot (which I presumed as odd considering as owls never really do that) and shook it in our faces. It was then that I realized that there was an envelope tied to its foot. _

_Dad encouraged me to untie it and gave the bird some corn. It twittered happily before disappearing in a flurry of wings. I watched it go with utmost curiosity until it vanished entirely from my view. I was then reminded by the envelope in my hand. I glanced down to see the most peculiar seal. A gold H with four creatures surrounding it. Mum urged me to open. I did so obediently. _

_Hermione Jean Granger_

_Underneath the Large Elm Tree_

_Green Park, South of Picadilly, London_

_

* * *

  
_

To say that Draco had been taken aback by Hermione tossing him her journal would be an understatement. In fact, if it had not been for his Seeker reflexes, he might not have caught the book in time.

Draco had been raised a spoiled brat – what Draco wants, Draco gets. This was all material-wise. As for hugs and bedtime stories – well, that was another story for another day.

Growing up, he was made to believe that power was everything and he had been taught well by his father. Lucius Malfoy had exuded power, and he knew how to use and abuse it to his own liking. Draco knew that this was a horrible trait. And although Draco considered himself a changed man, there were just some things that he could not grow out of. This was one of them.

As much as he hated to admit it, the only reason why he had said those things to Hermione was because he had actually been _concerned _about her. After all, no witch in her right mind would leave the house without her arm. Well, wand. But it might as well have been her arm.

Which was why he was sitting here outside the balcony in the cool night air with her journal on his lap. He had only read the first few pages so far – not so interesting, in his opinion. He decided to skim over the pages – see if something caught his eye.

* * *

_It sounds cliché – falling in love with your best friend. But that's exactly what happened to me. It developed gradually over the years. I tried to make my feelings known through doing little things, like helping him with his homework, tutoring him whenever there was a test the following day, and going on the occasional adventure with him and Harry. But he never noticed. I knew I was silly for getting my hopes up, so I decided that perhaps it was time I moved on. _

_Viktor Krum had been the perfect distraction. He was nice, attentive, and caring. It didn't matter that he could not pronounce my name properly. Nor did it matter that he wasn't that cute at all. His personality was all that counted and the fact that he had expressed obvious affection. But it didn't work. Every time I danced with him, conversed with him – I kept picture a certain redhead in my mind. He just wouldn't go away. _

_So I continued doing the little things, hoping that one day he would see me in a different light. _

_But then he started dating Lavender Brown, and I realized that I had entered my own personal hell. Every day was a nightmare. I could barely stand to be in their presence. Jealousy raged inside me. I was helpless. This was something beyond my control. I could not stop him from loving another. _

_It wasn't until the day at the infirmary when he called out my name instead of Lavender's. _

Draco resisted the urge to gag and skipped the next few pages. They talked about Hermione's work as an Arithmancer at the Ministry of Magic, her blissful relationship with Ron Weasley --

_Ginny used to warn me about men who were all shiny and pretty on the outside but were just horny on the inside. She also warned me that her brother might be one of those men – she told me to be careful, careful with my heart. _

_She was wrong of course. Despite several fights and a hell of a lot of tears, Ron and I stuck together. We worked it out. We've been together for almost two years now. We were even talking about marriage. _

_I was living an almost fairytale. Trade the castle for a slightly rundown apartment, the shimmering dress for standard Ministry robes, and Prince Charming for a lazy redhead who chewed with his mouth open. I loved him to death._

_I was looking forward to my happy ending._

_But it turned out that my lazy redhead wasn't my Prince Charming after all, but a horny jackass who chose a big-breasted blonde over me. The worst part was, he had the audacity to do it on our very bed._

_It was really the only time that I hurt someone physically (outside the War of course). The blonde went flying out the window, completely nude. She had to be taken to St. Mungo's to have all her broken bones treated. That made me feel a little bit better. But then I realized that I sent the wrong person flying out the window._

_

* * *

_

For some reason, Draco wasn't surprised. But maybe he was just biased. After all, he spent the better part of his life hating Ron Weasley. He was the only person that Draco had not completely gotten into good terms with. The rest of the Weasleys – he had sort of formed a polite relationship with. Even Harry Potter had become his friend. But the Weasel King? No.

What surprised him was that Hermione would actually leave London for this. Despite the fact that he used to look down on her during their Hogwarts days, there was no denying the intelligence and courage inside that woman. She wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing.

He pegged this as her second reason for leaving. The first, would be her parents' death. But he continued to read. There must be another reason behind all this. It simply wasn't – enough.

He came across a few excerpts from the War. He was about to skip through it when a paragraph caught his eye.

* * *

_I never believed that people are born evil. People choose to be evil. When there is a choice, there is an alternative. There is also a chance of change. This has led me to believe that those people could change. Change for the better. Choose to be good. _

_I had faith and I held on to that faith for as long as I could, knowing there would be no chance of winning the war without it – without certain people making the right choice._

_I was right._

_The few Slytherins who had crossed over to our side had stunned more than a few people. But I knew they would. I knew that beneath the dark exterior, there was a good person waiting to be free. _

_Yes, Draco Malfoy included._

_And no one would believe this, but I was proud of him – for making the right choice._

* * *

Draco blinked, unsure if he had read correctly. But it was right there. Imprinted clearly in Hermione's neat penmanship. A strange warm feeling was spreading through him. This was nothing short of bizarre. Draco had never felt this way before. Perhaps he was coming down with a fever?

"Enjoying yourself?" A cool voice asked.

Draco turned to see Hermione leaning against the door frame, a glass of red wine in her hand. He shut her journal closed with haste, a tad bit embarrassed at having been caught reading about – himself. Of course, Hermione did not know that.

"Isn't it a little too early to be drinking?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She shrugged and took a seat in front of him. "Blaise is cooking."

"Ah."

Hermione set down her glass on top of a small table by the balustrade. Without meeting his gaze, she spoke: "I had my reasons for reacting that way earlier this morning, Draco. I suppose you've read about them?"

"A few." Draco said truthfully, meeting her gaze head-on. "But they were petty reasons. I'm not sure I've seen the _real _ones yet, seeing as I got stuck on an excerpt about myself." He could not resist a smirk.

Hermione turned red. "I've forgotten about that."

"If you don't mind me asking," Draco started, feeling the first waves of curiosity pick at his mind. "What did I do to make you – _proud _of me?" The word felt alien to his ears. He had never heard it spoken to him before. Only to describe him, which was nowhere near positive.

This time, when Hermione looked at him, a sudden softness appeared in her brown eyes. The iciness that had been there an hour ago had already dissolved. "You were the last person that everyone thought would turn to the good side. Even I had been doubtful at the start. But I believed in you. I knew there was something more to Draco Malfoy than just an arrogant asshole who licked his father's shoes."

Draco held back a wince at the last few words. It was true, though. He had worshipped his father. But in the end, he betrayed him. Funny, how the world works.

Hermione sipped her wine. "I was right."

The odd sensation he felt after reading the last few pages sent another dizzying wave through him, making him feel warm amidst the cool night breeze. Draco realized, after a moment of pondering, that he felt – happy. Hermione's words made him happy. "Thank you." He said softly.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm just saying the truth." She stood and began to leave.

Acting on impulse, Draco stood as well and grabbed her arm. "Hermione – wait." She turned questioningly at him. And Draco began to feel very aware of just how close they were standing to each other. He could feel her breath on his neck. His heart began to pound. If he leaned just a little bit closer –

"DINNER IS READY!" Blaise hollered from downstairs. "HURRY BEFORE IT GETS COLD!"

Draco cleared his throat and handed her the journal. "Take it. You can tell me when your ready."

Hermione blinked and stepped backwards . "Um, okay. That's very nice of you. Thanks."

She hurried downstairs leaving Draco to stare after her in confusion.

For a second there, he almost felt like kissing her.

_Almost._

_

* * *

  
_

Hermione knew that it was never good to jump into conclusions. Which was exactly what she was doing now. Her mind was going on overload. Meeting Draco upstairs had entailed one thing: explaining to him why she had acted like a total bitch earlier that morning. It did not entail her getting lost in those startling silver eyes and allowing her heart to pump a million times its' normal rate. And it most certainly did _not _entail the disturbing thought that entered her brain at that very moment: that Draco Malfoy was going to kiss her.

"Are you alright?" Was the first question out of Blaise's mouth the minute she walked into the dining room. "You look a bit flushed."

Hermione frowned at him. "I don't know what you're talking about." She sat down in front of him. He shrugged and poured her another glass of wine. She heard Draco enter the room but chose not to look in his direction. Her cheeks felt a tad bit too warm for her liking.

"Well, what are you two waiting for? Eat up!"

At Blaise's command, dinner commenced with Blaise doing most of the talking. He did not seem to notice anything amiss between his two companions who remained relatively silent for the better part of the evening.

"What time is Fiona coming home?" Blaise asked as they finished up in the kitchen. It was almost ten.

"Late." Hermione replied. "She went to a benefit. Those things could last for hours."

Blaise yawned. "I don't know about you two but sleep is calling me."

Hermione froze. She had forgotten about that. _Get a grip Hermione, you're jumping into conclusions. _She cleared her throat. "Ah, yes. Of course. Goodnight Blaise."

"Night you two."

"Night." Draco murmured.

Blaise trudged up the stairs, leaving the two of them alone in the dining room.

_**TBC**_

_**

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**_

A/N: Review please. Thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

**EMBERS**

**VII**

In Draco's opinion, Hermione Granger had been an ugly duckling from the very first time he had laid eyes on her. Now, however, he wasn't quite sure whether he could still describe her as such. Because it seemed that France had transformed the ugly duckling into a swan.

The frizz had smoothened into soft waves. The stick-thin figure gained some curves. Buck-teeth straightened into neat rows. Loose robes became designer clothing. And Draco knew, from his little investigation in her closet earlier that day, that underneath that tight dress was some naughty –

_What the fuck Draco?_

He blinked. It appeared that he was becoming attracted to Hermione Granger.

_Unacceptable!_

Draco tried to push the irritating voice out of his head. Hermione was cleaning up the table, giving him a rather perfect view of her backside. He tilted his head to the side and watched. He realized that he was enjoying this.

_You're lusting after Weasel King's leftovers. _

"Weasley is an idiot." He muttered. He meant to say this to himself but Hermione heard it. She turned suddenly, the glass in her hand slipping from her glass. Draco was able to catch it in time, and in doing so, managed to close the short distance between them.

He could smell her sweet perfume.

"I see you've read that part." She noted, her voice wavering only slightly. There was a pained expression on her face. It was almost as worse as the night of her nightmare.

"I have." Draco acquiesced.

"Then you have two of the reasons." Hermione said without much feeling. "You still have one more."

"Like I said," Draco repeated softly. "You can tell me when you're ready."

Her head tipped up almost imperceptibly – waiting. Her eyes were unreadable. Draco unconsciously leaned closer. Weasley was indeed a fucking idiot – to exchange someone as beautiful as this.

"Draco?"

They were barely an inch apart. "Hermione."

"Are you going to kiss me?"

This was a question easy enough to answer.

"Yes."

"Do it."

His lips crashed into hers with an undetermined amount of energy. Her arms came around his neck, his hands gripped at her waist, pulling her body flush against his. Draco was heady with longing. He could not remember the last time he wanted someone so much. And he didn't even know _why. _It was almost as if this was meant to be. The electricity running between them was on high voltage. This was pure, unadulterated desire.

When they released each other, they were both out of breath. Hermione's brown eyes were warring with conflicting emotions. She staggered back a step, her fingers coming to rest on her lips. Draco just stood there, watching her, waiting for her to make the next move.

"There's only one other reason why I left London."

Draco said nothing. He merely waited.

She looked away.

"I got pregnant."

* * *

Hermione had been kissed by a few men in France. It was usually because she was heavily inebriated. But it didn't seem to matter that there was an unholy amount of alcohol in her system, every time someone kissed her, Ron's face would spring into her mind and she would pull back so quickly that most of the men that she had kissed would get mad. She would give out some offhand excuse about Fiona needing her, spin around and look for the nearest exit. Every single time, she had left in tears.

This was the reason why she never went on dates – not because she was a lesbian (as Fiona had so kindly put it), but because of Ron. Fucking Ron Weasley who fucked her and got her pregnant and then fucked another girl.

She pushed the torrid memory out of her mind and focused on the situation at hand. Draco was staring at her like a fish out of water. Hermione had taken an involuntary step backward. She did not know what possessed her to allow Draco Malfoy to kiss her like that. But what she did know was that during the entire time that they were kissing, Ron Weasley's face did not appear.

It was just her and Draco.

She felt free.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Draco said looking perplexed staring with unabashed scrutiny at her stomach. Hermione resisted the urge to cover it. She went to the gym at least twice a week. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

"Ron was the father." Hermione replied, releasing a shaky breath. Not because of the memory. But because Draco had left her – winded. "The day I found out he was cheating on me was the day I found out I was pregnant. I was going to tell him that day. But apparently, he was busy."

Draco's face hardened.

"Nobody knew because I didn't want anyone to know." Hermione said, raising her chin in defiance. "Instead, I decided to leave."

She could remember that day. It was clear as daylight. Hermione grabbed her journal from her purse and flipped it to a certain page. She gave it to Draco who took it without a word.

* * *

_I packed my things. Left a note to everyone who mattered: Ginny, Molly, Arthur, and Harry. I told them that my aunt in France was willing to take me in. I told them not to bother visiting me. I told them that I would visit soon – when the time was right. That I needed time to heal. _

_I boarded on the first plane. I was determined to leave once and for all. The Wizarding World had shattered my life. Took away my parents, broke my heart, gave me a baby that I wasn't so sure I could take care of. I wasn't ready for this. _

_I almost snapped my wand in half. _

_But somewhere in my head, Dumbledore – that old geezer whom I loved dearly and respected so much, kept whispering to keep it. So I did. Hid it behind the back of my closet. Dove into the fashion industry. Changed my appearance. Tried to move on with my life. _

_And then I miscarried. I was only eight weeks in. The doctors said that it was due to a genetic problem. Ron Weasley gave my baby fucked up genes. I was angry. I was in pain. I had no one to turn to. Aunt Fiona didn't even know that I was pregnant. I covered it well._

_

* * *

  
_

The second the word 'pregnant' had escaped Hermione's lips, Draco had been floored. And the sudden urge to hunt down Ron Weasley and rip off his head became overwhelming.

Now he knew why Hermione wanted to leave London so badly.

The news of the miscarriage was unfortunate. But perhaps fate, after seeing that she was in no state to raise a baby, decided to give her a free pass. The emotional turmoil she must have felt, however, must have been excruciating. Already, Hermione had lost four people in her life: her father, her mother, Ron, and now, her baby.

He was amazed that she was able to survive through it. But then again, she wasn't a little weakling.

"Any plans to go back?" Draco asked quietly.

"Not at the moment." Hermione replied, eyes downcast. "I miss Ginny. I miss Harry. But I – just can't. That place brings back too many painful memories."

"Have you ever considered talking to your friends about it?" Draco asked not unkindly.

"They would tell Ron. Then they'd probably try to make me go back." Hermione shook her head severely. "No. Now isn't the time. Maybe next year. Or the year after that -- "

"Or maybe never." Draco finished for her, cocking an eyebrow.

Her eyes welled with tears. "I miss magic."

Draco's eyes widened at the sight of her tears. _Not again. _It was nightmare night all over again.

"Is it wrong to miss something that you killed your very own parents?" She asked, blinking back the tears. But to no avail. They streamed endlessly down her cheeks. Draco was at a loss on what to do. He tentatively reached out to her and pulled her gently to his chest. She did not fight back.

"Let it out Hermione." He whispered in her ear, stroking her hair soothingly.

And so she did.

_**TBC**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

A/N: Review?


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

**EMBERS**

**VIII**

The following day went by in a blur. Hermione rushed off to work in a hurry. Fashion Week was approaching. She was going to be very, very busy. She was thankful that the two Slytherins allowed themselves to be locked away in her office. She left them with plenty to entertain themselves with: iPods, PSPs, laptops, and even a Nintendo Wii. They were like kids on Christmas morning.

By the time her day ended, she was exhausted. She trudged into the house with her two bodyguards arguing behind her about some game they played on the computer. Night had already fallen. She entered the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. She paused when she saw Fiona's favorite Coach purse sitting on the countertop. She had only seen Fiona twice that day. Once during the morning, before she left. And second, at the agency.

What on earth was she doing home this early?

"Blaise is too tired to cook dinner, so I was thinking we could order Chinese." Draco announced, coming into the kitchen.

"Sure, whatever." Hermione said, downing her glass of water with a huge gulp.

"Thirsty much?"

"Very."

Hermione was grateful for their light-hearted exchange. They had not really talked about the night before – about the kiss, about waking up together on the couch. Blaise had found them. He was only vaguely amused. Hermione had been so swamped for work that she almost completely forgotten about it. Until now. She was about to open up on the topic – ask him _why _he kissed her when Fiona flounced into the kitchen wearing a glitzy Diane Von Furstenberg dress.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked bewildered. As her aunt's personal assistant, she knew that Fiona did not have anything scheduled for tonight. It was supposed to be her night off.

"I have a date." Fiona said, her eyes twinkling as she twirled around in front of Hermione. "Do you like the dress? I spent _hours _looking for the perfect one."

"It looks lovely," Hermione agreed and then added. "But you never spend hours looking for a dress just for a date!"

"This one's special." Fiona said pointedly, grabbing her purse from the counter.

"Oh?"

"I'm going out with Christophe _Gilles._"

Hermione's mouth formed a perfect O. Christophe Gilles was one of the richest men in France and it was a well-known fact that he was very picky about his women. It was no secret that he was on the hunt for a wife. The only problem was, he was a bit – not ugly per se, but Fiona had a penchant for handsome men and Christophe Gilles was not one of them.

So instead, Hermione said: "But he's ten years your senior."

"So?" Fiona said with a shrug. "He's actually very nice. Polite. Intelligent. There's nothing wrong with giving him a try."

"I suppose." Hermione said just as a loud honk sounded from the driveway.

"That's my cue!" Fiona said blowing them kisses.

"Enjoy your night." Draco said with a nod.

"Bye." Hermione waved.

"So," Draco started. "About last night -- "

"You don't have to say anything," Hermione said quickly. "We were just caught in the moment – that's all."

Draco stared at her like she had grown two heads. Hermione wondered whether she had said the wrong thing.

"Did it feel that way?" He asked softly. His eyes were burning into hers. She shifted on her feet. For some reason, she could not look away. They were pulling her to him. It was like gravity.

_Did it? _She thought. _Of course it didn't. _Draco Malfoy was the first person to completely erase Ron Weasley from her mind during a single kiss. Draco Malfoy was the also the first person _since _Ron Weasley to make her feel _this alive._ It was like being submerged in water for years and then finally coming up for air. She knew that Draco was the reason that she was able to forget – for at least a moment – everything that Ron had done to her.

"Because it didn't to me." Draco said. The authenticity in his voice made her heart begin to beat with incredible speed. "You've changed a lot Hermione -- and I think I like it." A smirk formed on his face.

_God that smirk. _

"Why so quiet?" He asked, his breath tickling her face. He smelled so _good. _"I'm going to kiss you again Hermione." He leaned in closer. "If you don't like it, you can always just say stop. And I will."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. His face loomed closer. Her lips parted automatically.

"GUYS!" Blaise called out from the living room. They sprang apart. "I think you'd better take a look at this!"

They exchanged a glance before hurrying out of the kitchen and into the living room. Blaise was sitting in the middle of the sofa, his back ramrod straight, eyes fixed on the flatscreen where the evening news was just beginning. They settled themselves on either side of him. Blaise picked up the remote and increased the volume.

"…_was found by the maid lying facedown on his bed. Paramedics could not identify the cause of his death. Investigation is still ongoing. Although there seems to be no evidence of foul play, the destruction of all surveillance cameras suggest otherwise. While suicide is being considered, family and friends refuse to jump to this conclusion."_

A picture of a young man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes was flashed on screen.

Hermione gasped.

* * *

Draco's head whipped to the side at the sound of Hermione's horrified gasp. She was staring at the screen with wide eyes. Disbelief was thoroughly etched across her face. "Do you know him?"

"He – he's an actor. His name is Adrien Damas. I remember seeing him at the benefit last week. He had been talking to Aunt Fiona along with – oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." Hermione had shot out of her seat and was furiously rummaging through her bag. "Where is that damned phone!"

"Wait, what are you talking about Hermione?" Blaise asked, alarmed. "Along with who?"

Hermione finally surfaced with her mobile phone. She hit a few keys and pressed it to her ear, waiting. "Christophe Gilles." She said darkly. "The very man that Aunt Fiona is currently on a date with."

"I spoke to him on the phone." Blaise said with a frown. "He seemed decent. We can't jump into conclusions right now. We don't have proof!"

"She's not answering." Hermione ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Come on Blaise. You heard what they said. The doctors can't even identify the cause of his death. We all know that the Killing Curse doesn't leave a mark. The person just – drops dead."

Draco knew this perfectly. The Killing Curse was one of the three Unforgivable Curses. It caused instant death to the victim. Other than that, it had no other effects nor markings. In fact, victims were usually described to be completely healthy apart from the fact that they were all dead. It would make sense that the Muggles wouldn't find anything wrong with the victim.

"But what makes you think that it's Gilles who's behind this?" Blaise implored. "And why on earth would he kill Damas? It's not like the two of you know each other. And Damas must have acquainted himself with a whole lot of other people."

"Polyjuice Potion." Hermione concluded, knowing full well that the Death Eater's real name was Thorfinn Rowle and that he did not look a thing like Christophe Gilles. The Death Eater's face flashed in her mind and she had to suppress a shudder.

Draco nodded. "Possible. Give her another ring."

Hermione continued to dial. She sagged with relief when Fiona finally picked up. She put her on speakerphone. "_Is there anything wrong, Hermione?" _Fiona's voice asked from the other end of the line.

"Just checking up on you Auntie." Hermione said brightly.

"_How sweet of you._"

"I was wondering what time you were coming home?"

"_We're just finishing up dinner here. But we'll be home in a while. Speaking of which, perhaps you could check if there's still some champagne available? I'm not entirely sure if there is._"

"I will. I'll send you a text. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Looks like she's safe and sound." Blaise noted. "And I suppose she's bringing her date home."

Draco smirked. "Someone's getting some action tonight."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not entirely something that I enjoy. Thank you."

"Are you jealous?" Draco drawled. Hermione shot him a glare. Blaise merely laughed.

"I assure you that I am _not._" Hermione huffed. "I'm going to take a bath. In the meantime, you can make yourselves useful and check if there's any champagne left. If not, the both of you can go buy some." She barged up the stairs.

"We're not maids here Hermione!" Blaise called out after her rather indignantly.

They were responded to by a loud snort.

"Right." Blaise sighed and proceeded to the kitchen. Draco followed. "You don't suppose the Death Eater has discovered Hermione's whereabouts, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. We just have to be careful. Hopefully, he doesn't know that we're here. And if he decides to attack, he'll be outnumbered."

"So," Blaise said as he finally found a bottle of _Dom Perignon. _"Has she told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Why she left."

Draco nodded.

"No wonder she seemed so tense around you."

"That's not the reason."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

Draco just smirked.

_**TBC**_

_**

* * *

**_

A/N: Review?


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Welcome to the second to the last chapter.

* * *

**EMBERS**

**IX**

An ice-cold shower was exactly what Hermione needed to clear her thoughts. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Draco's obvious intentions. Well, maybe she liked it a little bit – but no one could blame her for being scared. Her last relationship had been a total train wreck. She didn't know whether or not she was ready to dive into another one.

She pulled on a pair of Seven jeans and an Anne Klein shirt. She was in the process of drying her hair with an Air-Dry charm when the sound of screeching tires resounded from the driveway. Pocketing her wand, Hermione bounded downstairs, anxious to see if Fiona was indeed, just fine. Draco and Blaise were in the sitting room, talking over steaming cups of brewed coffee.

"Where is she?" Hermione asked.

"She hasn't come in yet." Blaise replied.

The doorbell rang. _Well that's odd. _Hermione thought with a frown. Fiona had her own keys to the house. She never left home without them. As Hermione made her way towards the door, a nervous feeling crept over her. Upon reaching the door, she peered through the peephole. She gasped.

There was no one there.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked coming into the foyer. Blaise followed behind him wearing a guarded expression. Both had their wands drawn.

"There's no one outside."

"But we heard the doorbell." Blaise said in befuddlement.

"Step aside." Draco ordered. Feeling anxious, she did as told. "Ready Blaise?" The dark-haired Slytherin nodded gravely. Hermione went to stand behind them, silently berating herself for leaving her wand in her bedroom. Having gone two years without a wand had made her forget about the most essential material object in her life.

"_Diffindo!" _Draco hissed. The door splintered into a thousand pieces. Hermione did not know what to expect. But the small box sitting on the doorstep was the last of them.

There was no one else in sight.

The two Aurors exchanged a glance. "Think it's safe?"

"There could be a curse on it." Draco warned. They approached the box with caution. "_Specialis Revelio!" _

Nothing happened. "_Reparo._" The splintered pieces transformed into a door once more.

Blaise shrugged, picked it up, and gave it to Hermione. _Godiva_ was written on the cover. It was a box of chocolates. "Secret admirer?" He questioned. It was then that they noticed her name scrawled in a neat penmanship just below the brand. _Hermione Granger._

She pulled off the lid.

A note was waiting on top of the rows of dark chocolate. It was short. But it was enough to send her heart careening off her chest.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I have your Aunt. Come alone or she dies. You have until midnight._

There was an address written beneath it.

"Well that sucks." Blaise noted.

* * *

_10:00 p.m._

"This is insane." Hermione muttered, more to herself than to her two companions. They were currently speeding through the half-empty road in Draco's McLaren en route to Christophe's cliff-side mansion.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Draco retorted. In the span of fifteen minutes, the three Hogwarts graduates came up with a plan. It involved brooms, invisibility cloaks, and a gun. In Hermione's opinion, it was nothing short of suicidal.

"I'm not the Auror here!" Hermione snapped.

"Enough you two." Blaise reprimanded sternly. "We don't have sufficient time."

They rounded a dark corner and finally came to a halt underneath a shade of trees. They climbed out of the car. Draco popped open the trunk and pulled out the necessary items: two invisibility cloaks, two Firebolts, and a Glock. The latter, Hermione tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Blaise cast a Disillusionment Charm over the vehicle, effectively hiding it from plain sight.

"Ready?" Blaise asked her. Hermione took a deep breath before nodding.

"I can do this."

"Alright." Blaise said with some satisfaction. They boarded their brooms, threw the Invisibility Cloaks over themselves and shot up into the air, leaving Hermione below by herself. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared herself for her long trek towards the mansion.

* * *

_10:05 p.m._

Hermione was feeling nauseous. She had steered clear from danger for a good two years. Strange how what used to be a regular occurrence in her life could suddenly feel very alien to her. But her days at Hogwarts were long gone. Her exceptional fighting skills during the War had gone dry. To sum it all up, her self-confidence when it came to defending herself was at that moment, kind of low.

And it was all her fucking fault.

As the mansion drew nearer, her heartbeat would triple its' rate. But she sought comfort in the thought that somewhere above her, someone was watching over her. She finally arrived at Christophe Gilles' doorstep. There was a doorbell at the right. She reached out and pressed it. It made no sound. She knocked. The door creaked open by itself.

Hermione kept her hand in her pocket, grasping her wand tightly with sweaty fingers. The hallway was dark. But there was a light at the end of it. She surmised it to be the living room. She crossed the carpeted floor with slow, cautious steps. She could vaguely make out the large paintings adorning the walls, the silver-framed photographs sitting on antique tables…all she could concentrate on was the sound of her beating heart going thud, thud, _thud._

She felt as if she was walking towards her death.

And then came the voice, _his _voice: low, raspy, and ultimately cold. This was no longer Christophe's voice. This was a voice she had never wanted to hear ever again. But there it was – calling out to her, beckoning her to come closer.

"_We're in the living room, love." _

Hermione stepped into the faded light. Her eyes immediately locked onto the figure lying on the table. It was her aunt. Her feet itched to rush to her side, but she knew that somewhere in the room, evil was watching, waiting to strike. She dared three steps forward. This allowed her to see the steady rise and fall of Fiona's chest. She appeared to be in a deep sleep. Relief swelled within her. She was alive – for now.

Hermione cast a glance around. There was no one there. There were only two windows in the living room. Both were facing her. They were floor-length, clear glass, revealing the pitch black environs. She knew that her two companions were out there somewhere, trying to find a way in without being seen, heard, or worse – caught.

"_Expelliarmus._"

Hermione felt her wand slip out of her tight grasp and whirl towards the left side of the room. She watched it go with a sense of unrelenting dread. After a heartbeat, a figure emerged from the shadows. She felt herself recoil at the sight of the man that had destroyed her. _Murderer. _Her eyes narrowed.

"Finally, the lovely Miss Hermione Granger."

He was not as she remembered him to be. He had lost weight. His inky-black hair had grown past his shoulders. There were lines on his face, veins protruding from his arms. His eyes were violent. Hermione stood her ground.

He began to circle Fiona, tracing her neck with the tip of his wand. "She tasted like wine." He licked his lips. Like a carnivore predating on his meat. It was a disgusting sight.

"Leave her be." Hermione hissed.

"You're right." Rowle said with a feral smile. "It is you that I want."

_Where the hell are those two? _She wondered. She was facing a blood-thirsty Death Eater _wandless_ for crying out loud. Did they really expect her to survive? Her eyes flitted around the room. This proved to be a big mistake.

"Are you looking for someone, sweet?" He asked, pure suspicion lacing his voice. "I told you to come _alone._" Danger glittered in his eyes. The threat hung in the air precariously.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I did."

"Even if you didn't," Rowle whispered. "They'll have trouble going through the multitude of jinxes I have placed on every entrance of this house."

And Hermione's heart went _FLIP._

_

* * *

  
_

_10:12 p.m._

"Fuck." Draco swore under his breath. They had done a quick reconnaissance of the entire house. Every single entry was covered by a series of Protection Spells: curses, jinxes, hexes. It would take hours to break them.

"He was expecting us to come." Blaise said.

"One of us should've just went in with her." Draco said, cursing to himself.

"At Fiona's expense?" Blaise asked with a shake of his head. "Rowle would kill her the second he realizes that Hermione did not come alone."

They were hovering ten feet away from the living room windows. They could not go any nearer. They were being repelled by one of the charms on the windows. They could clearly see what was going on inside. Under the safety of their Invisibility Cloaks, however, the two or rather three people inside the living room could not see them at all.

Draco growled as Rowle moved towards Hermione with slow, taunting steps. At that very moment, all Draco wanted to do was get his hands on Thorfinn Rowle's neck, cut off all his air and watch him turn cyanotic.

"There's got to be something else we could do." Blaise said.

"What else is there?" Draco asked. "This is all up to Hermione now."

"Wait. I have an idea."

* * *

_10:16 p.m._

Something akin to a shooting star shot straight at the window. It was bright yellow and blazing heat. It made no sound as it collided with the Death Eater's Protection Spells. It took exactly five seconds.

But five seconds was all Hermione needed.

Because during those five seconds, Thorfinn Rowle was caught by surprise. He turned to see what had happened and made the biggest mistake of his life.

_BANG _went Hermione's gun.

Then all was silent.

_**TBC**_

_**

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**_

A/N: The end is near. A review, perhaps?


	10. Chapter 10

Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Song lyrics from "Embers" by Just Jack.

A/N: Last chapter. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers.

* * *

**EMBERS**

**X**

It was ironic how a Muggle invention had saved them. Draco's big speech on the essentiality of one's wand proved to be utterly useless during the scene of battle – which didn't turn out to be much of a battle after all.

It was nearing twelve midnight and the three Hogwarts graduates were still inside Christophe's mansion. Fiona was still under the effects of a very strong Sleeping Draught. They decided not to wake her until they returned to the villa. Instead, they transferred her onto the couch and proceeded with working on all the Protection Spells in the house. It took them more than an hour to get all of them down.

Christophe's body was lying on his own king-sized bed.

Hermione cringed at the sight. The room reeked of death. It set her hairs standing on end. Blaise cautioned everyone not to touch the corpse. "Best to leave it be. The police can come up with their own story."

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "This is going to look bad for Aunt Fiona. She's going to be a prime suspect for this case." She frowned. The media would most likely link the two deaths together. She could see it in the papers now: Adrien Damas and Christophe Gilles, both seen talking to Fiona Granger at a Charity Ball, both found dead in their own homes. If only she could obliviate the entire Muggle media.

"Any suggestions on what to do with Rowle's body?" Draco asked nonchantly, almost as if he were wondering what to wear and not what to do with a Death Eater's carcass. He nudged the body with the tip of his boot. There was a pool of blood around his head. The bullet had gone straight through his brain. His dark eyes were glassy in the dim light.

"Chuck it into the ocean?" Hermione suggested.

"Bury it in the backyard?" Blaise added.

Draco shot him a look. "That's a bad idea. This house will be for sale. We wouldn't want Rowle's ghost stalking the new residents."

"Good point."

"We should burn it."

"We should." Blaise agreed.

Hermione frowned. "How do you think he managed all this?"

"I found some ingredients in a knapsack." Blaise shrugged. "Lacewing flies, leeches, powdered bicorn horn, Fluxweed, shredded Boomslang skin, and a few strands of hair. There were two different shades."

"A Polyjuice Potion." Hermione's eyebrows were knitted together in deep thought. "That's impossible. It takes a month to brew." She would know. She had made one in their Second Year at Hogwarts. "Aunt Fiona met the two actors just last week."

"He planned it, I suppose." Draco said. "I hate to admit it, but he did a fucking good job – evading the Ministry, finding _you_." Hermione shuddered. She had been so close – so close to being killed.

"What about Aunt Fiona?" Hermione asked. "There's got to be some way to get her out of this mess."

"Easy. We extricate her memories, check the people who had seen them together and erase their memories." Blaise said with a grin. "We can use that Muggle device that removes memories – you know, the one that's this big and has a small red light? You don't happen to have any one of those do you Hermione?"

Hermione stared at him. "The people who carried them don't happen to wear black suits and sunglasses now do they?"

"Exactly!"

Hermione burst out laughing. "I believe you just watched_ Men In Black. _And no, Blaise. Those things don't exist."

Blaise's face fell. "Then we'll have to do it the hard way then."

"Memory charms?" Hermione asked. "I can help you with those."

Draco nodded. "Let's get to work. We have a lot to do."

* * *

There were only three people who had seen Christophe Gilles and Fiona Granger that eventful night. The chauffer of Christophe's limousine, the Maître d' at the fancy restaurant where they had dined (they were given a private room), and their waiter. Hermione's Memory Charms worked to perfection and by the time Fiona woke up, she was already tucked away in her own bed.

It was not until they collapsed on the couch of Fiona's living room that Hermione realized that it was all truly over. They had burned Thorfinn Rowle's body and thrown the ashes in a dumpster half-filled with garbage. She had completely nothing to worry about now. She was safe. Which meant she no longer had need of a bodyguard.

Reality struck her hard across the face.

"Congratulations comrade. We did it." Blaise said with a huge exhale, clapping Draco on the back enthusiastically.

"Yes we did." Draco murmured. His eyes travelled over hers for a moment. And Hermione would like to think that she was imagining things, but she was quite certain that she could see a hint of wistfulness there. The blonde Slytherin smirked and the moment was gone. "But I'm afraid we were wrong. Hermione could take care of herself after all."

"That she did." Blaise said with a solemn nod. "Who knew? The fall of a Death Eater by Muggle means."

Hermione, still contemplating upon her sudden realization, could only manage a small smile. "Sounds like a movie title." She joked. "Seriously though, a wizard should never underestimate the power of the Muggle mind."

Blaise shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid Muggles have created a nasty way to kill. _Avada Kedavra _actually sounds a whole lot more appealing compared to what a gun could do."

This, Hermione knew, was actually quite true. While the Killing Curse was positively fatal, it was also extremely clean. And the pain lasted for only a millisecond. Or so she had been told. The weapons that Muggles had designed to murder, however, were far from neat. Hermione shuddered inwardly. To die by Muggle means would be the worst kind of death.

"How did it feel?" Draco asked quietly.

Hermione blinked. How _did _it feel? It was something that she hadn't pondered about yet. Her mind flashed back onto the scene, and she could remember everything with an unexpected clarity. Rowle with his back turned, her warm flesh coming in contact with cold metal, the sound of the gun cocking. It had sent her senses on overdrive. The adrenaline rush that she had felt that night could not compare to any other experience in her entire life.

"It was strangely – _exhilarating._" She found herself saying, lost in recollection. "To think that I could finally exact vengeance on the one person that had destroyed my life somehow heightened everything. Pulling that trigger was simply – instinctive."

"Revenge is best served cold." Blaise said with a yawn. Hermione glanced at her watch. It was half past two in the morning. It was not unusual for her to be awake at this hour. Working for Fiona entailed attending parties that lasted till dawn. But the incident that night had somehow left her feeling drained. All exhilaration had vanished and exhaustion had come to take it's place.

"Shall we call this a night?" Blaise asked. "We can book a flight tomorrow morning – wait, it _is _tomorrow morning isn't it? When we wake up, then." He stood and stretched his arms above his head, glancing at Draco. "You coming? We can share the room. I'm sure Hermione would love to have her bed back to herself. She's more than safe now."

_What? – No!  
_

Hermione mentally slapped herself. That wasn't right. Draco didn't belong to her. They shared _one _kiss. She shouldn't be feeling like this – like she was. She stopped herself, unwilling to continue the sentence.

"You go ahead. I just need to have a few words with Hermione first." Draco's tone was smooth. She shifted in her seat. Blaise arched an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless. He climbed up the stairs and disappeared into his bedroom. She wondered briefly if the dark-haired man suspected anything.

"What about?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Sound began to emanate from Blaise's closed bedroom door. It seemed that he slept with the television on every night. He was becoming quite addicted to the thing. The strains of one of her favorite songs reverberated in the silence.

_/The facts and the figures/_

Draco raised an eyebrow. It unnerved her how the two Slytherins could have such similar mannerisms. "I'm sure you know what."

"I'm not _psychic_, Draco." Hermione pointed out brusquely. _That came out wrong. _She did not mean for it to sound so abrupt. She blamed her nerves. Her stomach was doing flip-flops.

_/They overwhelm a stifle,  
Everything that you thought you knew/ _

"We're leaving tomorrow." Draco stated carefully. "We're returning to London."

"I know that." She said, feeling an urge to look away. She could not stand the way his eyes seemed to be boring into her, as if he could see into her very soul. He had broken all barriers the night she had decided to tell him about her past. And for some reason, those walls remained down. She had nothing to hide from him anymore.

"Don't you ever think of going back?"

"Everyday." She answered.

"Then why don't you?"

_/And the petty decisions that you think make a difference/_

Hermione stared at him. There was nothing but earnestness on his face. It was only that, that impelled her to respond. "Why? Because that place brings back all the worst memories. There is nothing left for me there."

_/So tiny that they blow away like dust/ _

"Memories are just memories, Hermione. You don't let them define you." She found herself lost in Draco's stormy gaze. "And how can you say that there is nothing left? There's plenty left. You just need to have the courage to move forward and make something of yourself. Surely, the smartest witch that Hogwarts has ever seen cannot be reduced to a mere Arithmancer." His hand came to rest on her cheek. It was cool. "Have a little faith."

_/Embers, embers, embers/_

Hermione blinked. "That almost sounded like a pep talk."

Draco's lips twitched. "Maybe it was."

_/Through all of the devilish things we do/_

"I'm afraid I'm not convinced." Hermione said with a shrug. She just wasn't ready. Maybe in two or three years. But definitely, not now. "I'm living a good life here, Draco."

"As a Muggle." He stated flatly.

"I'm proud of my roots." Hermione said defensively.

"That's not who you really are."

"I'm still not convinced, Draco."

_/Through all of the devilish things we do/ _

"Then maybe I'll have to find other ways to convince you."

This time, he caught her completely off guard. His hand swiftly pulled her head towards his, allowing their lips to meet in a shocking collision. He was everything but gentle. His tongue came to invade her mouth without pause, exploring every corner, making her melt into his waiting embrace. She found herself responding. Fiercely. _Desperately._

_/We are all embers_

_From the same fire/_

She realized she didn't want him to leave. "_Stay._" She gasped.

"No." Draco said in a half-growl that sent shivers running down her spine. His lips were demanding, his scent intoxicating. She was heady with desire. This was Draco. Draco Malfoy. And he wanted her.

And her alone.

_/Embers, embers, embers/_

He released his hold on her. Grey eyes crashed into brown ones. They searched. They pleaded.

"Come with me."

_/So tiny that they blow away like dust/_

_

* * *

  
_

_Epilogue_

There were three reasons why I decided to return.

First and foremost, my job as Aunt Fiona's personal assistant no longer held so much appeal after brandishing around a wand in a Death Eater's house. It didn't matter that I didn't get to actually _use _it. I found that I missed my wand more than I let on. To make a long story short, I missed using magic. I missed being _around _magic. Plus, I was getting tired of running around in high heels.

Second, there was a job opening at the Ministry of Magic. And _no, _it was not to work as an Arithmancer. I have no desire to return to that sort of profession. I decided to try my luck at being an Obliviator. I was quite good with Memory Charms, after all.

And last but not the least, I could not bear to be separated from the one person who pulled me out from the darkness and into his bed – _ahem, _into the light. Draco Malfoy had gathered up the broken pieces that used to be my heart and put them back together again.

Cheesy? I speak only of the truth.

_**FIN**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

A/N: Thank you for everyone who stuck till the end! One last review?


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